A Lesson in Breathing
by bluethursday
Summary: Breathe in. Breathe out.This is how it starts, wrapped in your sheets a warm body beside you, its heat scorching. You sleep better alone. Or you've learned how to. Dick/Tim. This is how they fall apart.


_Summary: This is how they fall apart. Dick/Tim_

Disclaimer: I own nothing

...

**A Lesson in Breathing**

Breathe in. Breathe out.

This is how it starts, wrapped in your sheets a warm body beside you, its heat scorching. You sleep better alone. Or you've learned how to. Years spent in an empty house make you fear anything else, fear the body pressed against you, because its not what you know.

You know hallways that no one walks through and dinners for one.

You have been conditioned since birth to be alone.

That does not mean that you are not lonely. It only means you deal with it better than most.

Your name is Timothy Jackson Drake and you trace it in the white of the covers, invisible marks that only you know about.

The body stirs, a muffled groan of waking coming forth from its side of the bed, "Timmy.. babybird?" It calls out.

Tim is neither a baby nor a bird but he will allow Dick this innocence. Let him pretend he's the broken one if it makes him feel better.

"Yes." He replies, the way anyone would. He says yes the way he's seen it said, by Jason and mother. Father too. He says yes like Tim. It's easy, he's always said yes because no has never been acceptable and he wants to tell Dick, explain to him the weight of that word, what it means to Tim. What he's given up.

But he's scared.

That if he does…Dick won't understand.

Because they have different scars, and Tim only wears the obvious ones on his sleeves. The ones that hurt most, the festering, aching ones that pull and screech and break go somewhere else. They go to the place where missing things go, the land of singular socks and car keys. Children.

Abandoned sounds a lot like lost. It feels like it too. Tim has had the _honor_ of being both.

"Morning." Dick's voice is gruff with sleep and as he turns he wraps his arms around the younger one. He nuzzles the back of his neck, breath hot on the baby fine hairs that litter the area, the place where white turns to absolute black. Lush strands of black ink.

"Morning." Tim whispers back, twining his fingers together with Dick's It's nice to be warm for once, even if it feels like he's being burned. Better to die tied to a pyre than locked in a freezer.

Smiling shyly he turns in those arms, "What do you want to do today?" He asks, tracing the side of the older ones cheek. It's rough, covered with a days worth of stubble that pulls against the skin of his fingertips. Dick leans forward to plant a kiss.

"Nothing at all. We could stay here for today. Do nothing."

It's sweet and gentle. It almost hurts too much but Tim has always been good at dealing with pain.

"I'd love to."

…

They didn't start as much as they fell into each other, Dick tired, needy.

_Apologetic. _

Tim had said yes. He didn't say no, and that's important. He said

"Yes." and "I love you too." Because he did. He loved the bright eyed boy who held him when he was small, who almost fell with his parents, one step away from death. The brilliant shining boy who wore the skin of a bird when the night fell, who let others wear it when he was done. Sometimes Tim feels like he's loved Dick his entire life. All of it spread out in picture form, a box in the attic, tucked away to hold the proof.

Picture after picture of Batman, Bruce, Robin_, _Richard,Robin,Jason before and after the fall. Nightwing._ Dick_.

He's loved that boy, young and exited, kind to a stranger he never even knew but everyones nice to children Timmy, aren't they? _Liar_.

He doesn't know if Dick remembers that Tim was there that day, another face in the crowd. He never told anyone. Not even Batman.

Because-

how do you say, I've loved you almost my entire life and I know that you love me too, but I don't think you mean it the way I do.

Because-

Tim would fall for Dick, but more than that, he would _save him_, because Dick was a bright shining thing that only lived in the dark when it could fly. He was the kind sweet boy who said things like, "He's just a child Tim. I know you don't like each other but maybe you could try, for me?"

Tim is tired of trying. He says yes.

He thinks that if he ever wakes up to feel his neck snapping, that Robin, the only real one there ever was would cry at his funeral.

He says yes anyway.

Even though Dick's love is mercurial thing.

Tim isn't entirely sure he can count on it.

It's conditional.

Do this, be this, and I will love you. All he wants are the guidelines. Could someone, anyone, please just give him those and he will be whatever he needs to be, play and act like a puppet on a string if he only he knew how.

But the worst part of Dick is that he knows to much and too little.

He knows that Tim's parents went on vacation a lot and left him with a nanny, but so did the parents of a lot of kids he knew from school. It was okay? Wasn't it? Wasn't it? There was nothing wrong with Timmy, so it had to be okay. He wasn't anything at all like _Damian _who needed so much more_. _

Tim was smart. He was organized and Dick knew that he was loved. That his former little brother, current lover, loved him. He basked in the glow of Tim's sun.

What he didn't know was that Tim could have been brilliant. Could have built a company from that ground and smashed Wayne Corp to pieces. That if given the incentive his Timmy could take over the world in exactly six hours and twenty three minutes with severe causalities and thirteen hours and four minutes without severe casualties. He doesn't know that Tim's been planning it since age eight, left alone again, again, again, once more in a house with no footsteps. So it was okay wasn't it?

He knows that Tim likes his coffee black and his breakfast light. The sounds he makes in bed, the quiet sensual moans, the sounds he makes when he's tired, little sniffling yawns that make him pick the slighter one up and cuddle him into submission.

He knows a lot of things.

He doesn't know enough.

…

"Tim, Tim, come on we need to get to the circus, its going to start soon."

In his mind he sees the Grayson's, blood splattered on the floor, brain matter leaking out. Her skull had cracked and he had landed on top her, bodies mashed together in some macabre display. They had fallen together.

"Didn't you get enough circus time growing up?" Tim jokes.

Dick grins, hands spread wide, "You can never get enough circus time."

He doesn't say no.

They go. Tim spends the entire time waiting for them to fall.

They don't.

He's not sure which who he's thinking of.

…

Dick looks at Tim, and he sees someone to love. Something smart and pretty. Like a rose in a garden. It's exactly as its supposed to be.

He wishes that he wasn't so perfect. He wishes that the younger one made a few more mistakes, and god he was a horrible person but it was so hard to love Tim, to be in love with him when everything else came between. When the third Robin never fucked up.

When Dick did.

When Bruce looked at Red Robin and ignored Nightwing.

Tim was just. Tim. Perfect wonderful Tim, who always seemed to lose everything. Always the victim, the hero. The good guy.

Dick dreamed of tearing him apart, shaking him until the younger one swore or drank or cried, not a little bit, not when someone died. Cried just because.

He hated himself for that, because he loved Tim. He wanted him to be happy. He had loved Kory and Babs too and one of them he left at the altar.

Love wasn't enough and he didn't understand Tim. Not really.

Sometimes he dreamed of burning. He didn't know why.

…

"So Grayson finally decided to use you as a whore." Damian spits out one fine morning.

Tim continues to butter his toast as Dick splutters, "Damian that was inappropriate. That's not how we do things and you should know better. Apologize to Tim."

The youngest Robin sneers, "I apologize, Timothy."

"Accepted." Tim replies, magnanimously.

Inside he seethes, wants to stab Dick in the arm because -

_You didn't say he was wrong _

..

This is where they break. They've been breaking from the beginning, from before. The foundation too weak to hold a single thing. Love isn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough to fill the cold screeching hole left inside Tim.

_Love me. Love me._ It calls out.

Breathe.

Dick talks to Babs, Oracle all the time. He always did, even before and Barbara had him first. In a way, it was fair. In a way Tim wanted to set something on fire, because for a moment a single moment he had believed that everything would be okay. He knew it wouldn't last he just desperately wanted for once in his life something to prove him wrong.

It doesn't.

_Why can't he be happy?_

Tim sees it before Dick does. He sees where the eyes starts to stray and he knows that Dick would stay. that the younger one could easily manipulate him, guilt him into staying with Tim, but he won't.

Because this isn't enough.

He is selfish enough to take one last night. He burns the feel of his beautiful boy deep into his flesh, but he doesn't leave any marks. No, he'll let him go unscarred. It'll be like he never played with him at all. All shiny and new, a collectors item locked in its box.

Like nothing ever happened.

"Lets break up." Is his good morning, and Dick is confused, all puppy dog looks and octopus hands but he leaves easily. He doesn't fight.

Maybe that was the problem, that no matter what Tim did, no one would ever fight for him and he was so tired of fighting for himself.

Two months later he sees Babs and he laughs and laughs and laughs until he cries, because she's with Dick again and she's walking and this is the happy ending you wanted isn't it? I was never good enough and I loved you for so long. I've loved you all my life.

He wants to throw the words down like a weapon a gauntlet, wants to scream them from the top of his lungs. An accusation. A war cry. He wants to stuff them down Dicks throat and choke him on them.

I loved you. I loved you, I love you still and you chose someone else over me.

You always chose someone else over me. Come back you fucking coward and fight like you mean it…

Like we ever stood a chance.

He sees the two together and he knew this would happen, knew it even before he broke things off. Broke things off because he knew it, saw the whispers of old love, a flame that never really died, buried in both of them..and he acted accordingly.

Dick bites his lips, "Are you okay with this Tim?" This isn't the first time he's asked this. It's probably going to be the last.

Tim smiles. Look pretty for the cameras Timothy. No one likes an ugly child darling, mummy needs you to looks good, "I am so happy for you Dick, and well, Babs, I just want you two to be happy."

I loved you. Why wasn't it enough?

He feels Dick's hug and laughs at his relief, "Relax Dick. Now go, you don't want make the bride wait."

He wants to break Dick apart. Smash him to pieces.

Coward. Coward. Liar. Bastard. _Coward. _

He stands beside Dick, the best man and smiles. Smile for the cameras Timothy. That's a good boy. He doesn't even register the ceremony, lets it wash over him as he tries not to tear at Dick's throat, claw at his thighs and rip out his heart. Eat it raw.

_I've loved you my entire life._

_…_

**Epilogue**

"So Grayson dumped you like a harlot in a back alley and got married not two months later. How does it feel Drake, to always be second best."

Damian stalks out of the shadows like a ghost. It would have been so much more intimidating if Tim hadn't known he was there.

"Don't you have better things to do?" Tim drawls out, swirling his sparkling apples cider. He's far too dangerous tonight to be let out in public. He wants to sit down and bawl like a child, but he won't give him that.

He won't give anyone that.

"What else could I do but remind you of your place."

If he calls him a whore Tim will kill him. Misplaced anger was a horrible, lovely thing, and Damian poked the wrong snake tonight.

There are no cameras here and no one is listening to them. Not now.

Damian poked the worst snake in the world.

Setting his glass down Tim stands, popping his neck casually. His entire posture changes into something so much worse. He moves gracefully, hauntingly to kneel in front of Damian. His suit is pristine save for a his tie, long discarded, the first few buttons of his shirt popped open, his hair is wild, and his eyes worse.

Tim places a hand on Damian's neck, "Your first mistake, "He says, " -is coming to goad me into something you can't actually handle."

The latest Robin tries to speak before Tim increases the pressure on his neck. Too late does he realize that the spot his predecessor chose could kill him if the man so decided to flick his wrist a certain way. A move recognized from his grandfathers men. Nothing at all that a Robin would know. Should know.

"Your second was the believe that I wouldn't hurt you."

Tim strokes his thumb down a major vein.

"Little child I have eaten better warriors than you alive and if you call me a whore again_ I will kill you_ and I will make it look like an accident. Is that understood?"

Damian nods his head as much as he can. He does not know this Timothy.

Tim leans forwards to breathe against a small ear, "Because no one would believe you, I'm going to tell you a secret." He bites the words out like a hiss, chews them and spits them out.

"When I trained with Shiva and you knew her little child, bitter angry _stupid_ child," Tim growls, "_I won_. I fought her and_ I won_, every single fucking time, and that means that if I so chose I could cripple you. Hurt you in ways your grandfather reserved for traitors."

Damian never knew what happened to traitors. He was never allowed to see, but the screams always rang out through the night. Swallowing his saliva he trembles. He does not know who this person is, this stranger in their family.

"Do you understand?"

He nods as best he can.

The hand on his neck leaves. Timothy leaves.

No one would believe him if he told them.

…

Collapsing on his bed, Tim sobs, great heaving things expelling tears and mucus, liquid sorrow. He moan and screams, thrashes against the sheets.

_I have loved you my entire life. _

_So why couldn't you love me back?_


End file.
